To Love a Windscreen Wiper
by Windscreen Wipers
Summary: Harry sidled up to the windscreen wiper, running his tongue across the beautiful metal multi edge blade. He tasted the delicious lemon flavoured cleaning fluid, and shivered.
1. Chapter 1

**To Love a Windscreen Wiper**

"_Maybe it's wrong, maybe it's not normal, but… I can't help the way I feel."_

It was the first day of Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. The feast was over, and night was throwing her shadowy net across the darkening sky. Harry sat on his bed, pretending to rummage through his luggage, his mind faraway. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ron plodded through the door and threw himself onto the bed with a groan, sighing nosily into the bedcovers.

"I'm beat," he complained, and with one elbow, propped himself up to look at Harry. "You feeling alright?" he asked him, brows creased. "You've been acting real distracted all the way here. Is something up?"

Harry glanced at him, quirking his lips. "I'm fine," he said.

_Like I could tell him… he'd think I'm a freak. This is something that _**nobody**_ can find out about. _

Ron frowned, dissatisfied, but let it pass. He slumped back down onto the sheets, and moments later, began to snore.

Harry clutched his arms round his chest, and thought about what had happened earlier that day; that terrible earthquaking moment, which had changed his life forever.

Xxx Flashback!!! xxX

Harry was preparing to leave for Hogwarts. He had his case packed with untidy precision, Hedwig was in her cage, and everything was ready. His uncle had agreed to drive him to Kings Cross station, though with a great degree of grumbling. Even now, Harry could hear his angry mumbling resonating from downstairs like a blocked hoover.

He checked his watch; it was time. He grabbed his luggage and staggered downstairs, bringing them outside. He opened the boot of his uncle's car and tossed everything in. He wiped sweat from his brow.

All of a sudden, something caught his eye.

It was something that sparkled; something metal.

He span around, his eyes locked upon the car in the opposite neighbour's drive. They had recently bought a new one- a BMW, and had had no reservations about bragging to others to their neighbours about it. Harry had seen it before- but not like this. His heart leapt in his chest, blood thudding in his head.

It wasn't the car- no, no silly automobile could stir feelings inside him like this. This was something quite different.

Time slowed around him, and in slow motion, Harry walked across the road, several cats turning around to stare at him as he inched his way across the empty road.

As he drew nearer, his heart rate accelerated- his prize now in plain sight. A glorious, beautiful- oh-so-beautiful… windscreen wiper.

Gently, he touched it, feeling a shiver run through him as he touched the metal and dark plastic, so formly fitted, the multi-blade edge as sharp as razor.

He'd never felt anything quite like this before.

Inside his chest, feelings were blooming, a warmth filling him, like a flower opening, petals splayed… he felt stirrings in other places, too.

Harry then did something that would be considered quite irrational in the muggle world, and even in the eyes of the wizards.

He ripped off that left windscreen wiper from the BMW and pressed it to his lips, plastering it with kisses. He hugged it to his chest, so tightly that it hurt, a low whimpering erupting from his lips.

Xxx End Flashback!!! xxX

Listening to Ron's rhythmic snores, Harry sighed, and then, his eyes darting left and right, he unzipped his pack. Inside, the windscreen wiper lay like a talisman.

"Don't worry Steve," he breathed to the wiper, "no matter what people think… I won't let you go. I can't.

"… I love you."

**To be continued**


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note- _This is a very serious love story. What I hope to achieve from this story are not simple laughs- instead, I wish to explore the complex- and intense!- relationships between man and machine, between human and material goods. But furthermore, I wish to question something, just one simple- but crucial- thing; is it possible to achieve a successful and fufilling relationship with a windscreen wiper?

**To Love a Windscreen Wiper**

**Chapter 2**

It was lunch time in the great hall, and Harry was hunched over his steak pie mumbling to himself.

"Can't let 'em find out… no, can't let 'em… can't-"

His voice came out in a breathless whisper, and worried, Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione whispered, her head together with Ron's.

"I dunno," said Ron. "He was like this all yesterday too. Do you think he's sick or something?"

At that moment, Cho entered through the double doors, making a beeline towards Harry.

"Oh," said Hermione with an awakening smile, "this will snap him out of it."

Cho bounded down to the Gryffindor table, brushing her silk black hair behind her shoulder. She sidled up to Harry, and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"Hi Harry," she said, her cheeks stained a rose pink.

Harry turned his head over his shoulder, glanced at her, and hunched back down to continue with his mumbling.

Cho gave him an odd glance, and then stamped her foot, looking like an angry horse, her nostrils flaring. "Pay ATTENTION to me!" she exclaimed. When Harry continued his Hunchback of Notre dame impression, she stamped off to the Ravenclaw table.

Hermione watched her thud away, and turned to Ron with a wry smile. "Looks like this is more serious than we anticipated," she said. Ron nodded a sagely nod.

"But…" she added, a glint in her eyes, "I have an idea to snap him out of it."

x

They pulled Harry away from his pudding, he barely noticing as Ron dragged him head first across the ground. Instead, he kept up his mumbling, sounding like a priest at prayer.

They took Harry to the quidditch pitch, and set him on his feet. Hermione produced his broom from behind her back. She waved it in front of him like a metronome.

"Harry…" she said, slowly, mesmerically. "Do you remember this? Quidditch..."

Haltingly, like one coming out from his trance, Harry's eyes began to follow the broom. "Quidditch…" he mumbled, a little drool escaping from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes," said Hermione encouragingly, "quidditch. Do you want to play quidditch?"

"Yyyyyeeeeeeeessssss," mumbled Harry. He reached out a hand towards the room, itching his way towards it. Abruptly, he halted, his eyes wide, and half crazed. He seemed to have remembered something. Without a second's hesitation, he pelted off in the opposite direction, zooming off the pitch and back up to the castle.

Startled, Hermione and Ron hurried after him, following him up into the tower towards the Gryffindor common room. They chased him round the twisting stairs, he unaware even of their presence; so caught up in his task was he.

He burst into the common room and zoomed up to the boys dormitory, Ron and Hermione on his tail. He exploded into the dormitory, and there, he skidded to a grinding halt.

He knelt down beside his chest, and threw it open, scuttling around for something, almost toppling in. Then, he found it.

"Oh Steve," he whispered, holding the windscreen wiper in his palms. "I was so worried- I had to know if you were safe."

From behind him, Hermione and Ron crept up on Harry. On the tips of their tippy toes, they scooted towards Harry. When they were directly behind him, Harry still cooing words of love to 'Steve', they saw what he had in his hands. Ron eyed the windscreen wiper in complete bafflement, Hermione with a little more understanding, though she still looked puzzled.

"A windscreen wiper…?" she said softly, to herself.

Ron touched Harry on the shoulder. "Uh, Harry mate-"

Harry whirled around as if he'd had an electric shock. He stuffed Steve back into the chest and padlocked it, before rising to his feet and fixing his friends with a toothy face splitting smile.

"Hello there my friends," he said, still smiling his huge fake smile. "How may I help you today?"

"I'd like a coke and fries please," said Hermione.

The smile dropped off Harry's face, and he stared at her with no inhibitions. "Whut?" he asked.

"You sound like a robot, Harry," she said, eyebrow raised.

He shuffled uncomfortably, glancing up to them, and following up this with a shrug.

"What was that you had in your hands Harry? It looked like some of the junk Dad's got in his garage," said Ron.

Harry stared at Ron, and slowly, all his falsity began to drip away. It was replaced by anger. "Junk?" Harry hissed. "You call Steve 'junk?'"

Ron took a step back, raising his hands protectively.

Harry followed him, prodding his finger in Ron's chest like a cattle prod. "You dare insult him like that? _Junk_?"

"Whoah, Harry- I didn't mean it like that," said Ron, looking startled. He backed away to the door, Harry following, a seething look dancing in his eyes, coupled by madness.

Hermione decided it was time to intervene. She thrust the two boys apart with her hands, and stood between them.

"That's enough," she said in her sharpest most authoritative voice. "Harry, just what is this about?"

Harry turned away, his anger gone, crouching back down on the floor. He wrapped his arms around his legs, and began to rock.

"I… I wish I could tell you," he said, burying his head between his knees.

"Then why don't you?" said Hermione, exasperated.

"I just… I can't. you wouldn't understand. Nobody would."

After that, he would refuse to say anymore, and so, eventually, Hermione and Ron left him there, shaking their heads in dismay.

Harry continued to rock, tears running in rivulets down his face.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note- As I was discussing with Diglossia, though Steve may have a male name, he actually has no gender. The 'he' prefix I give him is simply out of convenience. Windscreen wipers, you see, reproduce asexually in factories.

**To Love a Windscreen Wiper **

**Chapter 3**

It was dark, and Harry lay huddled at the end of his bed, hands wrapped tightly around his knees.

Colours swirled around him, making him dizzy, and from corners of the room he saw strange shadows creeping towards him, shadows that would disappear instantly once his eyes clamped firmly upon them. He shook his head, and continued rocking, trying to convince himself that there was nothing there.

Suddenly, Harry heard a voice. It had a high timbre, and its voice was sweet and sad.

_Harry…_ it said slowly, sounding upset. _Whatever is the matter? I hate to see you worried like this. _

Harry leapt to his feet, twisting around like a scared animal. "Who said that?" he demanded.

A silence followed, then punctuated by a sweet laugh. _Harry, you're so silly, _it chimed. _It's only me. Look to your left._

Harry did as the voice commanded him, and saw Steve perched on the top of his bedcovers, propped up by his pillow, staring at him with amusement etched into his plastic coating.

"Steve?" Harry whispered hoarsely.

_Hi Harry,_ said Steve, sounding almost embarrassed.

Harry flew to him, and stuffed Steve into his arms, hugging him like a lifeline.

_Hold on! _Cried Steve, his voice muffled.

Confused, Harry drew back.

_We need to talk, _said Steve seriously, as Harry settled on the bed next to the windscreen wiper, folding his hands in his lap. _I've been listening to what you've been saying and… this is going to sound totally absurd… but Harry, it sounds almost as if you're ashamed of me… _Steve's voice was soft and low now, and filled with sadness.

"No!" exclaimed Harry, breathless. "God no! I'm not ashamed of you Steve, how could I be? It's just that, well… our relationship- it's not normal, is it?"

_Of course it's not normal Harry. I'm a __**windscreen wiper**__._

"But that's exactly my point! I love you Steve, but…"

_If you love me Harry, why should anything else matter? _Steve fixed Harry in a serious stare. _It's true that this is… a little different. Certainly, I've never met any other wipers who've fallen in love with a human. But Harry, I do love you- and you love me. Why should we care about what others think? Don't you see Harry? None of it matters at all!_

By the time Steve had finished his speech, Harry was flabbergasted. Suddenly, he knew what Steve meant. Why should he care what everyone else thought about his love? Why should he hide it? He didn't need to be ashamed!

"I understand," said Harry, hoarsely. "Yes, I see now."

_Come here Harry… _Steve said softly.

Harry crept over the bedcovers to where Steve sat observing him with an admiring eye. Harry's pulse accelerated and he heard his heart thudding in his chest unstoppably.

_Kiss me, _said Steve.

Softly this time, tenderly, Harry leant down, and kissed Steve on his rubber strip. He felt a shiver run through Steve's plastic length.

"I'm sorry I was ever ashamed of you," Harry said.

_It's alright… _said Steve. _I forgive you, so long as…_

"So long as…?"

_So long as you agree to love me forever._

Harry laughed gently, and kissed Steve again.

"You know I will."

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


End file.
